It was nearing the middle of the night, but no one in the fortified trenches was sleeping. The men and women of the Wynherst king's army huddled together in the weak moonlight, shivering and creating large white clouds with each shaking breath. Among the pastureland of the small town of Avonford, where once sheep and farmers lived in idyllic country bliss, they were awaiting the battle that would come with dawn's first light. A battle none of them could predict or prepare for. All they could do was lean against each other, hoping to find some comfort in the sound of their voices and the weapons they made sure were sharpened and sturdy.

Idelle was no exception to the rule. She sat with her back against the muddy trench wall, holding the sword she had triple checked in the last hour. She had gone over every buckle of her leather breastplate and vambraces, making sure none had been eaten away by the rot that cursed everything in the damp trenches the past few months. Nearby, a group of young men muttered about the coming day.

"They think we're any match for fire mages? What're we to do? Just throw rocks at the blighters?" one said, spitting on the ground. His accent was unmistakably coastal, probably from Mosskin, meaning that he would be a recent recruit to the army. The king had started off with those closest to the southern border, where the battle was being fought. It wasn't until recent weeks that the draft had reached all the way to the uppermost edge of the kingdom of Wynherst. Mosskin was north, and this boy had probably only just arrived that morning.  

"They'll crush us for sure," another said, his accent from the city of Holmley, just below Mosskin. Another recent recruit, then. He ran a hand under his nose, looking miserable in the cold and wet. "I don't even have proper armor. All Mother could afford was a second-hand metal suit. And my sword wasn't even made by a proper blacksmith."

The coastal young man laughed. "You think that's bad? My sword's three generations old. And I heard about a whole group from down by Doldon who don't have any armor or weapons at all. Just came with pitchforks."

Doldon was a southern border city, more fields and farmers than grand museums and libraries like Holmley, or worldly trading ports like Mosskin. Anyone coming from that city would be barely educated and more used to a plow than a bow. 

The city boy snorted with a smirk. "Well, at least they'll be going down first."

Idelle frowned at their disregard. It was true that the battle had drained the king's coffers so much, and acquired such a vast quantity of soldiers, that armor and weapons could not be provided to all the fighting men and women in his army. Nearly everyone in the country who was of fighting age and health had at one time been conscripted into the army, and there was no way even a king could pay for all that gear. Which meant that everyone brought their own... to varying levels of protection.

Idelle didn't quite appreciate the young men looking down on those not fortunate enough to be able to afford armor or swords. Because, unfortunately, they were right. Those men would probably be among the first to die in tomorrow's fight.

A third young man, who had remained quiet up until that moment, piped up with a querulous voice. "Why would they send us out there if they know it's a group of fire mages? At least if it was water monks we'd stand a chance. But fire mages? We can't compete with that kind of magic," he said. "We'll die instantly."

Idelle sighed and pushed herself to her feet. She walked the few feet across the trench to where they sat, and plopped down to one side. They stared at her with open mouths, unsure of her intent. She propped one leg up, resting her arm across her knee, and leaned in toward them.

"Listen, boys, it's not that hopeless. Sure, a water monk would be easier to handle than a fire mage or an earth druid. But, it isn't as hard as you think to defeat a fire mage," she said.

"And how would you know?" the coastal boy asked, scowling.

"I've taken down many mages with my own hands, not to mention seeing others defeat them as well," Idelle said. "I know what makes them work, and how you can use their weakness against them."

The boys shifted uncomfortably. "You've fought before?" the city boy asked.

Idelle nodded. "I've been in a good year now," she said. "You'll get used to it, after a while, like I have."

Most of the drafts lasted at least three years, so both she and the boys had a long way to go. However, only a few months in the army was enough to stiffen the backbones of most anyone. It got better with time, be that a curse or a blessing.

"How?" the third boy asked, his eyes large and his face eager. "How do you defeat a fire mage?"

"No one who deals with magic can just create something out of nothing," she said. "All magic wielders can merely manipulate what is already there. So, the earth druids can only move stone and dirt that they have access to. The water monks can only twist water in a river or ocean. And the fire mages have to have a source to draw from," Idelle said. "That's why they have such large bonfires burning every night, preparing for the battle at dawn."

The frightened boy shivered. "That's what those were for?"

It seemed these boys were newer than she'd thought. They must have arrived only a few hours before, not giving them enough time to talk to the more seasoned soldiers and get a lay of the land. She almost wanted to pat their backs in consolation at entering their first battle so soon after arriving in the horrible trenches. It would all change for them, come the morning. The first battle was always the worst. Survive it, and the images of blood and gore that would haunt dreams for a few weeks afterward, and the rest grew easier. 

She looked off, at the slight orange haze on the horizon that marked the light of the massive bonfires burning on the other side of the river. "The good thing is, if they have to use a source, it means that you can cut them off."

The city boy grinned. "So you just have to get them away from their fires?"

"Yes. Or put the fires out. Without the source, they can only fight like you and I. But we know that we're better fighters than they are, right?" Idelle grinned.

"Of course!" the city boy said, his voice now full of bravado. "They'll never know what hit them."

The coastal boy laughed. "We'll wipe 'em up clean! The king will probably send us a nobleman's papers for bravery!"

"I know you'll destroy them, boys," Idelle said, chucking the coastal boy on the arm. "I'll see you on the battlefield. Luck be with you."

She touched her knuckle to her forehead in the soldier's way of saying goodbye, and then returned to her spot enough away from the others that she could get some sort of quiet in the trenches. There she sat back down, letting out a slow breath. She hadn't exactly told the young men lies, though she had definitely let them think that they had much more a chance than they really had. While they would certainly cripple the fire mage's abilities by putting out the bonfires, the fight would not be as even as she had let on when they came face-to-face with the mages. The fire mages were vicious fighters, trained and ruthless. She had seen more than one highly qualified commander of her army fall to a mage, even without the fire. 

Of all the soldiers in the magical kingdom of Glastonbex, she feared the fire mages the most.

But it was better to get the boys' hopes up than let them go in feeling hopeless. At least then when they died, they wouldn't know it until the very end.